


shatter me

by eveningeverlast



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Body Worship, Consensual Sex, F/F, Finger Sucking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Strap-Ons, Top Adora (She-Ra), Vaginal Fingering, catradora, jfc it's a ridiculous amount of body worship, lil bit of a dom/sub thing goin on, never thought i'd get to use that tag, ok more than a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:49:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28923126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveningeverlast/pseuds/eveningeverlast
Summary: “Tell me.”“Please,” Catra said instantly, eyes fluttering shut. She pressed her hips up against Adora, striving for what she knew she had, what she knew she needed, but Adora didn’t let her, widening the gap. She shifted, keeping the friction away, denying her her right, and buried her face into Catra’s hair. This was when Adora took control. This was her signal to take her, all for herself, whittle Catra down to nothing and crush her to pieces from there.or: catra had a bad day (but her hot gf makes it better)
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 130





	shatter me

Adora admired Catra before her, hands fastened above her head, laid out underneath Adora like a painting. Smudged edges of the night blurred shadows into deep and darker, the planes of her body catching the moonlight’s gentle brushstrokes in fine swatches and pools of color. A line of tension ran through her body, head tipped back, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, knees shaking. Her hands clenched into fists around the cuffs, wide eyes on the ceiling above their bed. She licked her lips and looked at Adora.

Adora normally treated Catra like a glass sculpture, delicate and beautiful, art to be studied and revered. Savored. The elegant slope of her shoulders, the sharp line of her jaw. The soft skin of her throat, arms raised above her head showing off the high peaks of her breasts and even planes of her stomach. Mountains in her hips and valleys in her thighs, the river that ran between. Adora wanted to smooth her hands over her dark skin, bury her nose between her thighs and take her time, be gentle, be delicate, be  _ slow. _ Tongue lapping like waves against the shore, hand pressed flat against Catra’s stomach, heartbeat pounding in her ears. Ankles locked behind her, pressed into the small of her back. Adora wanted to be full of the scent of her, the taste, and the knowledge that Catra was hers and hers alone. Hers to please, hers to care for, to give everything she wanted and anything Adora could provide.

But Adora couldn’t, today, because if Catra was glass, she had asked that Adora shatter her.

Asked Adora to  _ use _ her, pressing a tool into her hand that forced Adora’s heart into her throat, thundered a deep desire somewhere far lower. Catra’s pupils blown wide hours before they had the chance to retreat to their bedroom, hours before the echoes of their friends’ voices faded from their apartment. Hours, and Adora sitting alone on the couch in the living room, hand pressed over her heart, processing only the memory of her hand around that heavy weight and her name in Catra’s mouth.

Adora leaned forward, now, hovering over Catra. She was straddling her, hips lined up over Catra’s, hands caging her ribs. Her hair fell in a platinum sheet around her face, pushed behind one shoulder, tips brushing Catra’s sternum and pooling in the hollow of her collarbone. Adora didn’t kiss her like she wanted to— not yet, because the time wasn’t right and Catra had to earn her, earn  _ this— _ but simply watched the way Catra pressed up against the restraints, striving for Adora’s touch and hoping to catch something tangible to sate her building desire.

“You gonna be good for me?” Adora asked. She brushed a strand of hair out of Catra’s face, wondering if they should have pulled it back before they began. Before she could ruin the moment and ask delicately whether or not she wanted the change, Adora turned her hand and cupped Catra’s chin roughly, pulling her forward, up off of the mattress. She keened, low in the back of her throat. Adora felt the vibrations of her want and shivered, she herself pressed against Catra in that ever-familiar way. Catra noticed the wave of pleasure and groaned, the strangled noise telling Adora that she wasn’t gone yet, but falling fast into submission, happy to let Adora take care of her. Desperate that Adora took what she wanted.

That wasn’t what they had planned.

“Catra,” Adora reprimanded. She lifted herself back, leaving a breath of space between their hips. Catra followed her, grinding her hips up, but Adora moved even further, denying Catra her warmth. She tightened her grip on Catra’s jaw, slender fingers denting the smooth skin there. “Are you listening to me?”

“Mm,” Catra hummed blearily, nodding as much as she could around Adora’s grip. She found Adora’s gaze in the dark, pools of gold and navy soaking up the barest sliver of moonlight. “Yeah. Go ahead, sugar.”

“Sugar?”

“I mean— sir. I’m ready.”

Adora let go, satisfied with her answer. She was always a little wary of scenes like this, at first. She would warm up eventually, but in the beginning she needed every confirmation possible from Catra that what she was doing wasn’t just okay but expected, wanted,  _ needed _ . Catra was always careful to bring up the idea of restraint and less than subtle power play, only doing so when she knew Adora was confident in herself and her ability to take both physical and mental control, to know exactly what Catra needed and not fear she overstep or misjudge. Catra’s raw vulnerability had been terrifying, once, but now it was a source of awe and lust.

Adora ran her fingers over Catra’s skin, now, the shape of her more familiar than anything Adora had ever known. She could map Catra out in her sleep, and would recognize even the barest tension should it arise. There was no one, nothing Adora understood better than her wife. Her hands danced gently over her breasts, Adora watching for signals.

They’d started out slow tonight, but Adora didn’t have to reassure Catra that it wouldn’t be like that for long. Catra had been the one to hand her the strap-on that morning with challenge in her eyes and fire in her mouth, whispering scenarios that made Adora want to take her right there against the wall, or to push aside the dishes on the kitchen counter with a clatter and lay her out right there, to deliver on each of her demands, to show Catra what she  _ really  _ was dealing with. Instead she had raised an eyebrow, pressed a chaste kiss to Catra’s forehead, and left for work. Catra had stood still in the center of the living room for far too long after Adora was gone, eyes glazed over and breaths coming a little too shallow.

Adora hadn’t said anything over dinner after their friends left. She took Catra’s plate after they ate and dismissed her to the bedroom, following seconds after the door closed to knock Catra’s hand away from the toy on the bedside table. Adora locked her in place, then, cuffing her hands to the bed before she left to finish cleanup, still in her work clothes and leaving Catra aching and practically blind in the dark room, waiting patiently for her eyes to adjust despite knowing she would only be overwhelmed by sight should it play a part in their night.

She knew what was coming, but that didn’t mean Adora couldn’t make her work for it.

Adora tilted Catra’s jaw with her free hand, pressing slow kisses to her neck. She rolled her hips against Catra’s, closing the distance entirely, and her free hand slipped down, down, and— without warning— she slipped two fingers inside her to the knuckle.

Catra buckled and cried out. Adora was granted admission with no fight, sliding through warm folds like she was meant to be there. Adora’s weight holding Catra down kept her from resisting entirely, her chest arcing up to brush Adora’s, hands spasming and tightening. Glassy eyed and shaking, she panted loud and heavy in Adora’s ear, desperate and hungry for more. Adora smiled into her wife’s shoulder, pressed against her, propped on one elbow with her fingers laced with Catra’s, the others, frozen in wet warmth, walls shivering around her.

Adora’s slow kisses trailed down her neck to wherever she could reach as Catra adjusted, walls fluttering around Adora’s fingers, shaking and breathing unsteadily. She was still solid all the way through, though, no cracks in that glass facade that held up so strongly against Adora’s pressure. She was beautiful. She was strong. And it was Adora’s job to break her.

She withdrew her fingers and pressed into Catra again, this time with more restraint. In and out, slow and heavy, each thrust holding the weight of a tsunami crashing toward shore, of a spaceship falling to earth, hitting home and falling deeper still through the earth’s crust, Adora giving her everything she needed. She whimpered quietly, at first, soft sounds around stilted breaths and bitten-off moans. Adora shifted her hips back, giving herself more room to work, admiring the quiet orchestra of Catra’s voice, her breathing, the slick drip of her fingers sliding through Catra’s folds, the creak of the bed under them. 

The music crescendoed. Catra’s voice grew, asking for more. Adora gave it, brow furrowed in concentration, pressing deeper into her. She added another finger. Catra moaned without restraint at the stretch, eyes glossing over as they built her pleasure, thrusts picking up their pace, driving her down. She was close from waiting so long, half the day spent wondering about this, wanting Adora— tipping toward the edge, slipping past the peak to the fall— so Adora removed herself.

Slender fingers dragged out of Catra with a wet sound, a strand of slick trailing after them. Catra gasped in surprise, hips riding up to push against Adora’s in her hand’s absence.

“Shh,” Adora whispered. She propped herself up on one elbow and pushed her fingers into Catra’s open mouth, rolling down her tongue to the back of her throat, the knuckles of Adora’s hand bumping her teeth, sliding deep. She let out a strangled sound and adjusted to breathe through her nose, panting more than Adora had expected.

She kept her fingers mostly still while she sat up, straddling Catra once again. Adora’s own heat pressed against Catra’s stomach, surely leaving a mark or at least telling catra how much this was working for the both of them.

She removed her fingers after a moment, reaching for the toy on the bedside table. It was massive— must have been nearly two inches in diameter, though her guess was an estimate at best given how her heartbeat pounding in her ears drowned out all coherency. She applied the lube quickly, knowing catra was aching with her absence, and tossed the tube to the floor when she was done. Her eyes were glassy, still, watching Adora distantly.

“You ready?” Adora asked, forgoing a pet name entirely lest she make this something gentle. Catra had been clear: fuck her senseless. Be ruthless. Who was Adora to deny her queen’s demands?

Catra nodded. Adora knelt on the bed, readjusting. The toy played against her entrance and she gasped, arching her back and pressing into the touch. It would hurt— Catra rode the line between pain and pleasure, Adora reading her every expression down to the slightest twitch of her fingers, ensuring she was comfortable, safe in the face of so much raw force.

“I need you to say it,” Adora reminded gently.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Tell me.”

“Please,” Catra said instantly, eyes fluttering shut. She pressed her hips up against Adora, striving for what she knew she had, what she knew she needed, but Adora didn’t let her, widening the gap. She shifted, keeping the friction away, denying her her right, and buried her face into Catra’s hair. This was when Adora took control. This was her signal to take her, all for herself, whittle Catra down to nothing and crush her to pieces from there.

_ “Beg,”  _ she muttered, and the shudder that ran through Catra’s body was strong enough to level a city.

“I need you,” she panted. “In me. Inside me, please, Adora, pl—" she gasped for breath, chest heaving, nearly sobbing in her absence. “Just fuck me. I’ll take it, I promise, whatever you have. I’ll take it, and— and be good.”

Adora hummed quietly, considering.

“Ad—"

She cut off with a strangled cry, the strap-on pushing firm at her entrance, demanding admission. She gave around it, stuttered breaths ripped from her lungs, shivering and shaking, tensing and releasing, the toy slipping in further with each wave. Adora pressed her hips forward carefully, slowly, palms planted on either side of Catra’s stomach, electric blue eyes on her, ensuring her comfort. She bit back a smile at the vulnerability seeping off of her in waves, entirely giving in to Adora.

A few more minutes and she was buried to the hilt in her warmth, a familiar furnace Adora couldn’t wait to wear down to embers.

“Okay?” Adora asked quietly under the sound of Catra’s heavy breathing. She nodded, and paused. Adora saw the hesitation and gasped quietly. She leaned forward immediately to brush her thumbs over her cheekbones, panic shoving everything aside to take up residence in her heart.

“Color?” she asked. Her breath brushed hot against Catra’s mouth. It took a moment for her to reply, gasping and shaking, something close to sobs building in her chest but without enough energy to escape at the overwhelming pressure.

“Yellow,” she whispered. “Just— blindfold. I need the—"

“Blindfold, yeah— I got you baby. I’ve got you.” Adora pressed a hand over Catra’s glassy eyes and leaned toward the table. The cloth was already out on the stand, foresight from earlier, and Adora folded it quickly, one-handed, before sliding it over Catra’s eyes. She lifted her head to allow Adora to tie it. Once it was done a faint smile played at her lips, sweet and relieved.

“How’s now?” Adora asked gently. She wanted to give her a kiss but waited, unsure of where this all sat for Catra.

“Green.” She swallowed thickly. “Everything else green.” there was a quiet  _ click _ from above them— Catra had undone one of the cuffs— and her hand came to Adora’s cheek, shaking slightly. She leaned into her touch, pressing a quick kiss to her wrist and letting Catra feel her smile.

Adora withdrew slightly, letting Catra get a feel for the movement. Her head fell back, hand tightening against Adora’s jaw. Fingernails dug into the soft skin under her chin, just sharp enough to leave their mark, and Adora used the bright points of pain as fuel, picking up her pace. Catra groaned at the speed, voice rumbling in her chest, and with another  _ click _ Catra’s free hand came to Adora’s back.

“Don’t give—  _ fuck, _ don’t give up now, Addy,” she challeneged. Adora let out a shaky laugh and pressed herself in closer— warm, close, full, and everything Catra needed. She withdrew with a slick gasp and drove back in, pressing her weight into her, driving her into the mattress. Catra’s hands scrawled across her back, leaving elegant lines of cursive in raised lines of fire. Adora pushed deeper, delving into her folds and biting back a moan herself, watching Catra’s pleasure roll through her like thunder.

“Don’t stop,” Catra warned, fingernails digging deep enough to draw blood.

“Don’t you  _ dare _ stop,” she gasped, and Adora drove deeper.

“C’mon, Catra,” Adora urged, driving her over the edge. She saw Catra stumble at the peak, holding back in the face of the wave of pleasure, trying to prolong it, but Adora rolled her hips with a final thrust and Catra fell, coming with a strangled cry, fingers of one hand pinched at her chest, the other on the back of Adora’s neck, keeping her close. Waves of tension zipped through her like electricity, filling her ready to burst. Adora watched in awe, brushing her jaw, sliding her hands through her hair, letting her ride her orgasm.

Maybe there was something about shattered sculptures, Adora thought, or paintings torn from their frames, canvas trailing over marble floors. Their true beauty laid bare not in what they depicted but what they  _ were, _ and Catra’s light outshone them all. She smiled shyly, knowing Catra would kill her for thinking like that, would be flustered and annoyed and entirely unsure of what to do next, but that would be for another day. For now Adora waited until Catra’s breaths slowed before pulling out carefully, her arousal dripping on the bed between them. Adora laughed breathily and sat back on her heels, resting her forehead on Catra’s stomach, hands light on her hips. She brushed her lips against Catra’s abs, open mouthed as she tried to catch her breath, listening to her wife’s shattered breathing become something whole again, feeling her stop shaking under her, waiting as she slowly stitched herself back together.

“Addy?” Catra’s voice was quiet. She wound her hands through Adora’s hair, tugging gently and massaging her scalp. She still wore the blindfold, entirely uncaring of Adora’s eyes on her where she had no cues, content to stay in the dark a moment longer.

“Yeah?”

“Love you,” she whispered. Adora caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> hey. well. first smut ive ever written and i decided to go ahead and post. 4am hozier drabbles = the clear reminder that i am super fucking gay
> 
> maybe next time i'll stick to a theme instead of jumping through nature/art/music/ _more_ nature/ _more_ art with reckless abandon but for now idc


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